


pistol whipped

by mhunter10



Series: Geek! Mickey [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Breaking and Entering, Dancer Ian, Geek Mickey, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: When Ian's apartment gets broken into, he's not sure if he's scared or turned on by how Mickey handles it.





	

It had been a month since Ian and his brother Lip had had a huge falling out, prompting Ian to move out and find his own place. Mickey had even helped him move, organizing everything down to setting up his internet and cable himself. Ian showed him how much he appreciated it by christening every surface of the small place. Mickey admitted he was a little upset that Ian wasn't as close anymore, but Ian assured him it wouldn't effect them at all, and so far it hadn't. Ian usually stayed over at Mickey's twice during the week, more if he was feeling horny which was more often than not. Mickey had made it a point to stay over Ian's on the weekends when he didn't have to worry about work and could spend all day with his man. The place was alright for the price. Mickey wasn't so much worried about asbestos in the walls, as he was about the unsettling amount of crime reported in the area. He tried not to freak himself out, pouring over pages and pages of records, because he saw how happy Ian was to finally have something of his own where he didn't have his brother hanging over him or in his way. Mickey didn't know how it would feel to live with any of his siblings. They all loved each other in their own special way, but they pretty much went their separate ways once they were old enough and didn't have to worry about their father. So, Mickey kept quiet and enjoyed not being caught with his pants down.

Now, as he quickly shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his keys in the middle of the night, he was wishing he had persuaded Ian against his poor decision. The call had come only ten minutes ago. Mickey had been in a deep sleep, intent on waking up rested for work the next morning, so he almost didn't hear it. He was glad he did, though, as he hurried out of his apartment and flagged down the first taxi he saw. He had to stop and start over several times while shakily telling the man Ian's address, he was so scared and worked up. Ian had sounded a little freaked out, probably down-playing his fear and regret out of embarrassment. When he tried to assure him he was fine and not to worry, Mickey raised his voice a little. He felt sort of bad about it, but he couldn't let Ian talk him out of caring about him. It just wouldn't work. He wrung his hands in the backseat of the taxi, feeling hard metal pressing against his back as the streetlights blurred.

When he finally got to Ian's apartment, he got out of the car so fast he almost forgot to pay. Ian was waiting for him where he said he would, just inside the first door to let him in. As soon as he could, Mickey wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. He held Ian's face in his hands, looking him over. He looked tired and still pretty with makeup from the club, but he also looked annoyed and sad and relieved to see his boyfriend there.

"Are you okay?" Mickey said clearly, although he wished he had his inhaler on him. His thumbs smoothed the other man's cheeks, as he looked him in the eyes.

Ian nodded, keeping his arms around Mickey's waist. His breathing was faster than normal, from the adrenaline. he swallowed thickly. "I...I just yelled, and they ran. Shoved past me," he said, trembling slightly at the end. "Fucker."

Mickey pulled him down by his neck, kissing his cheek and bringing him into another hug. "I'm so sorry, Ian. I'm just glad your okay." He heard Ian sniff and squeezed him tighter.

They took the stairs two at a time, Mickey leading and never letting go of Ian's hand. When they got to the apartment, the door was hanging half off its hinges from being kicked in. Mickey wondered just how drunk, high or otherwise uncaring the other tenants had to be not to hear it happen. He didn't bother asking if the cops had been called. They would be alerted to a lot more than petty theft in a place like this. Mickey hated it. As they approached closer, he stuck his hand towards the back of his untucked shirt, and pulled his gun from the back of his pants. Ian's gasp was almost louder than him cocking the trigger.

"Mickey, what the fuck!" Ian half-shouted, half-whispered. He instinctively looked around, as though he expected the place to be instantly surrounded, yet he still followed Mickey's lead behind him.

"Shh. Might've come back if they saw you leave again," Mickey informs him calmly. He pushed the door open all the way with his foot and peered just inside the frame.

"Who would be that stupid, though?" Ian commented more to himself it seemed. He followed Mickey inside his apartment, moving where he moved and getting angry all over again. "It's trashed," he muttered, breaking away from Mickey and looking around at all the destruction. "Fucker."

"Fuckers," Mickey corrected without thinking. He turned to Ian and saw his face. He eyes kept looking from his to the gun that was now at his side. "Mostly likely...more than one. Turned the place up to make it harder to figure out what they took. Probably caught them at the tail-end of it."

"Oh, that makes me feel better," Ian sighed, dropping his backpack on the kitchen counter.There'd been a shitty but reliable coffee-maker there when he'd left for work earlier. He closed the now empty cabinets.

Mickey stood by, watching as Ian tried to assess the damage. He put the safety on his gun and slipped it back into his pants, pulling his shirt over it, so Ian would stop looking at it. He couldn't figure out if it was out of fear or confusion. He hadn't exactly mentioned he had a gun, but it wasn't something you brought up in casual conversation if you weren't a member of the NRA in a red state. He could feel his blood starting to boil. Who would do this to his Ian? How could this happen? Why had it? When they moved to the only bedroom, Ian cursed when he saw the 3-D printed figurine Mickey had given him smashed on the floor. Mickey felt sick watching Ian try to get all the pieces together, but he felt tears when Ian went for a box that had been emptied. He knew what Ian kept in that box because he'd seen it before. Old habits of squirreling emergency money away die hard growing up like they did. Shit. Ian threw the box across the room and punched the wall.

Mickey flinched. Ian was angry. He could see it. He felt it too, but now he felt guilt and shame. "This is all my fault."

Ian spun around fast. "What?"

"I knew...I knew this was a bad area, a-an-and I let you...I shouldn't have--"

Ian came over to him and grabbed him by his face, kissing him hard and shutting him up. Mickey was startled but fell into it easily. Ian pulled back and made him look him in his eyes. "This is not your fault, Mickey. There's nothing you could've done. I was stubborn and didn't want to listen to you or Lip. This is on me."

Mickey shook his head, "N-no. It's on whoever did this, but I should've--"

"Baby, stop. You told me what to do, you rushed over here, took control. You brought a fucking gun!" he laughed incredulously. "You did all of that for me because I made a bad choice. I didn't even know you owned a gun!" he laughed again.

Mickey bit his lip, holding back a smile. "I've been around them all my life really," he shrugged. "My family's always been about taking care of our own and...anyone we care about. When you called, I-I I couldn't even think. I didn't think. I had to get to you. Protect you. I care about you so much, Ian. If anything happened to you on my watch, I don't know what I would do," he swallowed back a lump in his throat.

"Shh..shh," Ian shushed him, pulling him close and running his fingers through his hair. "It's okay. I'm fine. We're alright. You did good, Mickey."

Mickey relaxed against him, just glad to even be doing it at all. If Ian had shown up sooner, who knows what they might have done to him. Who knows if Ian might've tried to play hero and be the big man he always was. He sunk into his chest, breathing him in. Ian lifted his chin and kissed him softly.

"So glad I have you to protect my ass. God, so hot," Ian admitted.

Mickey pulled away with his eyebrows raised. "Wh-what?" He touched his glasses and suddenly felt foolish in his pajamas. His hair was unkempt.

Ian grinned, eyes looking slightly hooded as they roamed Mickey's face. "When you brought that thing out, I got so hard."

Mickey snorted, "Shut up." 

"I'm serious. Fuck. I've seen guns before, being Southside and all, but something about the way you held it...the way you've handled this whole thing..mmh," he moaned, pressing closer and kissing behind Mickey's ear.

Mickey's breath hitched. Ian sucked and licked his neck, backing him against the wall and stepping on everything that had been strewn about the room. Ian slotted his thigh between Mickey's and began rutting against him slightly. Mickey grabbed him and kissed him hard, feeling the gun against his back like a reminder of his roots.

"You're a fucking badass," Ian groaned against Mickey's mouth.

Mickey pulled away and looked into Ian's eyes. "Move in with me," he blurted out, feeling it bubble up from his chest. He'd thought about it once or twice, but now he was sure. He wanted Ian in his life and around all the time.

Ian searched his face, seeing if he heard correctly. "You serious?"

Mickey nodded, a small hopeful smile on his face.

Ian laughed loudly, crashing their lips together and nearly lifting Mickey off the ground. "Fuck yes!"

Mickey's heart swelled in his chest. This was going to be a huge step for them, but it was going to be worth it.


End file.
